Diary Entry: March 29, 2066

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So we had this client yesterday called Madame Evelisse Lovelane, who said she comes from European royalty. She looked it too. Had diamond barrettes in her hair, and cheek bones that looked air-lifted from her skull. She was younger than we usually get, and traveling alone, except for her beefed-up bodyguard, who examined us like he'd be getting a pop quiz on our fashion choices later.

I felt bad for the Madame. Mom said she wanted to travel back to the day her daughter was born, to see the birth all over again, since her daughter was killed in an accident at sixteen, her body obliterated in a shuttle-craft explosion.

We had to tell her she couldn't go.

Well, I didn't tell her. I spied from the hallway while Mom and Dad explained to the Madame that she can't be in the same place as her past self, or else it's a PF. Paradoxical factor. She didn't understand, said she could promise to stay incognito. That's when Dad had to rearrange his words for civilian comprehension. IE: Too dangerous, too risky. Not to mention the DOT would fine us for sure.

Mom stepped in then, and told the Madame how sorry we were for her loss, asked her to sit down for some tea. Mom's good like that--always knows exactly how to relate to just about anybody. I've always admired that.

I'm more like Dad. I'd rather polish the titanium on the time-craft than relate to people.

So after spilling more tears in her teacup, Madame Lovelane got the gist of what regulated time travel is all about. It took some doing, but Mom probed her for places and times she'd always wanted to see--something fun and lighthearted to cheer her up.

Madame Lovelane finally stopped blubbering enough to say in accented English, "I've always wondered what it must've been like on that very first Carnevale in Venice, in 1162. Free-spirits donning elaborate masks, singing and dancing through the city with streamers and candles."

And it did sound totally magical. I hadn't even heard of Venecian Carnevale before, so I did a quick search on my palm-com for pictures and wow!

But then Dad interrupted with his hand up in the air and said, "Uh, about that, Madame, I'm afraid it's not possible. You see, the Department of Transportation prohibits any time travel into the past or future more than 100 years."

"So many rules!" Madame said, then blew her nose in her silk hanky.

"Indeed." Dad frowned.

Mom just patted Madame's hand and poured her more tea.

It's not Dad's fault there's so many regulations. Not like he enjoys them either. They're DOT enforced, and Dad knows if we don't follow the guidelines, the DOT could run our operation into the ground.

I jetted back to my bedroom after that and searched more Carnevale videos online. I really wanted to go with them. It looked like so much fun! But Mom and Dad made me stay home. They were only gone four hours--which is a typical time window when taking a time trip--and couldn't bring any souvenir masks back with them (more rules and regulations,) which is another reason why I really wanted to go along-just to see all the colors and costumes!

But Mom and Dad said they needed me to man Mission Control for their return. I knew it was BS because Dad could handle everything remotely from the time-craft if he wanted to. But I didn't argue. Knowing Mom, she thought it was better for Madame if I wasn't there this time. Since Madame lost her daughter when she was sixteen, my being there would be a constant reminder of her loss while trying to enjoy something special. I can just hear Mom saying that.

So I ended up having Kayla come over and we did Teen Beat Dance-a-thon online for like four hours! We were horrible--came in 304th place out of 442 contestants worldwide. Luckily, we used cartoon avatars and made up names, so no one knew who we really were. I can't dance to that geeky stuff Kayla loves. And she can't dance to my headbanger stuff. So we ended up doing a salsa number and both sucked.

That's it for now. Mom's calling me to handle the phones. Every day after my classes now she makes me handle Web conferencing for an hour. Says it's best if I learn a little each day, but seriously, it's like giving Einstein a pre-algebra quiz. I'm past that. Plus, I've already got over half the time port codes memorized.

I'm jonesin' for my next time trip. Hopefully, when I write next, it'll be about that.

Signing off.

Bianca

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